raft off from the moorings. With a few strong pulls from Zed and Nelson, we were out in the current. From here on, paddles were mainly about steering as there was only one direction on this stretch of the river—downstream very fast. Mr Benedict shouted instructions, plying the rudder-paddle at the rear. I hung on to the seat, biting back my shrieks as the raft spun round a rock jutting out into the water. When we passed it, I saw what lay ahead.
‘Oh my God. We’re never going to survive that!’
The water looked as if there was a giant whisk churning away on the fastest setting under the water. Froth flew in the air; rocks pierced the surface at irregular intervals, making navigation round them impossible as far as I could see. I’d watched what happened to eggs in a food mixer—that was going to be us in two seconds.
With a great kick, the boat surged forward. I screamed. Nelson roared with laughter and shouted ‘Yee-ha!’, swinging his paddle to help stave off the rocks. On my other side, Zed calmly did the same, showing no sign that he felt the exhilaration, the danger or even noticed that I was having a minor panic attack.
‘Devil’s Cauldron’s looking a bit frisky,’ shouted Mr Benedict over his shoulder. ‘Keep us central, boys.’
The stretch he referred to looked more than frisky. ‘Frisky’ is what you call boisterous foals on a spring morning, gambolling in the sunshine; this was an autumnal savaging bear in a killing frenzy, wanting to stock up for winter with extra body fat. A raft-load of humans seemed to me the perfect menu.
The strains of the Jaws theme tune thumped in my mind.
The raft plunged in. The nose momentarily dipped under the surface, dowsing us in icy water. Tina shrieked but she was laughing as the water sloshed away. We were buffeted on all sides. I was thrown against Nelson, then into Zed. I slipped my arm through Nelson’s elbow, but didn’t dare do the same on the other side, Zed looked so forbidding. Nelson gave my arm an encouraging squeeze.
‘Having fun?’ he bellowed, water dripping down his face.
‘In an awful “I’m-gonna-die-any-moment” way, yes!’ I shouted back.
Just then, the nose of the raft got wedged between two rocks, pressure of water pushing us sideways. Waves slopped over the side.
‘I’m going to push us off!’ Mr Benedict shouted. ‘All to the right.’
He’d taught us this drill on shore—it involved piling over to one side of the raft to make it lift half out of the river. I ended up sandwiched between Nelson and Zed, the stem of Nelson’s paddle clipping my chin.
‘Left!’
On the order, we lurched to the other side. The raft began to slide free.
‘Back to your places!’
As I scrambled to obey the order, Zed suddenly threw his arms around me, tackling me to the floor, face down in the water that sloshed ankle-deep. ‘Keep hold or you’ll fall in,’ he yelled in my ear.
Water going up my nose, I panicked and struggled free, just as the raft leapt down another rapid. Floundering on the floor, I was propelled towards the side. I had no grip so I parted company with the boat and tumbled backwards into the water.
Cold—rushing water—screams—whistles. I thrashed to the surface. The boat was already ten metres behind as I was swept like an aspen leaf through the Cauldron.
Float! The order punched its way into my brain—a voice in my head that sounded like Zed.
I had no choice but to let the current take me where it would, trying to lie as flat as possible to stop my legs hitting submerged rocks. Something scraped my calf; my helmet collided briefly with a boulder. Finally I was spat out into the slack water of an eddy. I clung to a boulder, fingers frozen white spiders spread on the stone.
‘Oh my God, Sky! Are you OK?’ shrieked Tina.
Mr Benedict steered the boat to my side so Zed and Nelson could heave me out of the river. I lay gasping on my back at the bottom of the boat.
Zed briskly checked for injuries.
‘Oh my God. We’re never going to survive that!’
The water looked as if there was a giant whisk churning away on the fastest setting under the water. Froth flew in the air; rocks pierced the surface at irregular intervals, making navigation round them impossible as far as I could see. I’d watched what happened to eggs in a food mixer—that was going to be us in two seconds.
With a great kick, the boat surged forward. I screamed. Nelson roared with laughter and shouted ‘Yee-ha!’, swinging his paddle to help stave off the rocks. On my other side, Zed calmly did the same, showing no sign that he felt the exhilaration, the danger or even noticed that I was having a minor panic attack.
‘Devil’s Cauldron’s looking a bit frisky,’ shouted Mr Benedict over his shoulder. ‘Keep us central, boys.’
The stretch he referred to looked more than frisky. ‘Frisky’ is what you call boisterous foals on a spring morning, gambolling in the sunshine; this was an autumnal savaging bear in a killing frenzy, wanting to stock up for winter with extra body fat. A raft-load of humans seemed to me the perfect menu.
The strains of the Jaws theme tune thumped in my mind.
The raft plunged in. The nose momentarily dipped under the surface, dowsing us in icy water. Tina shrieked but she was laughing as the water sloshed away. We were buffeted on all sides. I was thrown against Nelson, then into Zed. I slipped my arm through Nelson’s elbow, but didn’t dare do the same on the other side, Zed looked so forbidding. Nelson gave my arm an encouraging squeeze.
‘Having fun?’ he bellowed, water dripping down his face.
‘In an awful “I’m-gonna-die-any-moment” way, yes!’ I shouted back.
Just then, the nose of the raft got wedged between two rocks, pressure of water pushing us sideways. Waves slopped over the side.
‘I’m going to push us off!’ Mr Benedict shouted. ‘All to the right.’
He’d taught us this drill on shore—it involved piling over to one side of the raft to make it lift half out of the river. I ended up sandwiched between Nelson and Zed, the stem of Nelson’s paddle clipping my chin.
‘Left!’
On the order, we lurched to the other side. The raft began to slide free.
‘Back to your places!’
As I scrambled to obey the order, Zed suddenly threw his arms around me, tackling me to the floor, face down in the water that sloshed ankle-deep. ‘Keep hold or you’ll fall in,’ he yelled in my ear.
Water going up my nose, I panicked and struggled free, just as the raft leapt down another rapid. Floundering on the floor, I was propelled towards the side. I had no grip so I parted company with the boat and tumbled backwards into the water.
Cold—rushing water—screams—whistles. I thrashed to the surface. The boat was already ten metres behind as I was swept like an aspen leaf through the Cauldron.
Float! The order punched its way into my brain—a voice in my head that sounded like Zed.
I had no choice but to let the current take me where it would, trying to lie as flat as possible to stop my legs hitting submerged rocks. Something scraped my calf; my helmet collided briefly with a boulder. Finally I was spat out into the slack water of an eddy. I clung to a boulder, fingers frozen white spiders spread on the stone.
‘Oh my God, Sky! Are you OK?’ shrieked Tina.
Mr Benedict steered the boat to my side so Zed and Nelson could heave me out of the river. I lay gasping on my back at the bottom of the boat.
Zed briskly checked for injuries.
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